Authors: Ken Pence
“Tell you what. You pick four of your biggest guys – if I can’t beat them – I will have Cassandra show you Skip’s exact location. LeChak wants to ruin the negotiations – make Twasolo even harder to get and continue smuggling. Keeping Skip hostage is a control over me. They just need to cause delay.” He waited and let that information filter through. “Deal?”
The general raised his left index finger. “Deal.”
****
The breakfast was actually pretty good and Robert enjoyed it. It was interesting to see LeAt and LeToms in the crowd around the arena – guess you’d call it an arena – kind of a sand/sawdust area surrounded by sloping tiered seating. Robert was loosened up and wearing an old skintight running suit, he had had with him on the ship. He was getting checked over by the female military personnel. His running suit didn’t leave much to the imagination and his Earthly endowment was noted. The general had provided him with four bruiser opponents.
The first opponent was almost as tall as Robert but looked to be twice as stocky. Robert had a hidden advantage since he was from a world with slightly heavier gravity than LesMa. His opponent had his hair cut in patterns on his head and he had tattoos all over his body. Robert decided he’d try to use a different martial art on each opponent – jiu jitsu first gave him a broad range of options. The man rushed him and Robert, almost casually, fell backward, grabbed him, and flipped him back over his head. A sacrifice throw wasn’t the safest but it was the established thing to do in all the movies. The man was a wrestler, rebounded quickly, and rushed up behind Robert. He grabbed Robert around the neck and pulled him backward. Robert tucked in his chin, elbowed the hulk in the chest and then did a classic shoulder throw. Robert rolled and got the man in an arm bar and asked him if he would submit. The man gave up by kicking his foot against the ground.
Robert got up and brushed himself off. The static cloth in his running suit repelled all the dust and dirt and he looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. The crowd was yelling encouragement to the next opponent and he was obviously a crowd favorite. He was lithe and fast. He brought his hands up in loose fists and Robert decided he’d use a mix of techniques. He was trying to make it look like he was doing it effortlessly but this guy was obviously a lot more skilled. The guy drifted in and threw a flurry of punches. Robert backpedalled, slapped the strikes away, and then stopped backing. His opponent tried to keep hitting Robert but Robert kept attacking. Robert would block and slap him across the face. The man would strike and Robert would just slap. Punch, block, slap…the man was getting angry and finally reached out to grab Robert.
Robert grabbed his wrist and flipped the man through the air. His opponent landed on his back with a whoosh, jumped up, shook it off, and ran to grab Robert again. Robert pushed him to the side and then flipped him in another somersault to the ground. He then stepped in and threw the man three times in rapid succession until the man could not get up. Robert turned and bowed to the crowd on each side. He walked to the center of the arena and waited for his next bout. He didn’t have long to wait and two opponents came forward at the same time.
These must be twins because they had the same ugly mother. They moved in unison and Robert knew he was going to get a beating if one distracted him long enough. He had a momentary thought and then started doing the cartwheels and flips from Capoeira. He quickly moved to one side and kicked the first twin in the head as the second twin rushed him. Robert did a front thrust kick to the second one’s lower intestines and punched him hard under the ear as he bent over. The second one went down without putting his hands out in front – unconscious. The first twin had recovered enough to get close and punched Robert under his right arm. It drove the air out of Robert’s lungs and Robert blocked further punches ‘til he got his air back. He then dropped into a hard, Northern Kung Fu stance and started blocking strikes so that it hurt his assailant. Robert blocked upward so hard with one block that the crowd could hear a bone crack and the twin stopped. He looked at his arm – his twin – back at Robert and with a crude imitation – bowed to Robert. Robert grinned big – spread his arms wide, went forward, and hugged twin two. He grabbed one of the twin’s arms and raised their arms together.
The crowd went wild and Robert clapped the twin on his arm and put his other hand where the twin had hit him. He mimicked being pained and raised his left index finger. Robert and the twin went over to the man in the sand. The man was recovering and Robert helped him sit up with his head leaning between his knees. Robert helped him up after a few moments. His twin brother explained what happened after he was knocked out. General Lallaman came up with Service Chief Latima and Battle Chief Lomsolo.
“Can you shoot too?” the General asked.
“Yes General. I practice shooting more often than hand-to-hand.”
“If your shooting is half as good as your ‘hand-to-hand’ – I want my people with you. Did I see multiple styles of fighting? That was several different styles wasn’t it? I think a trade agreement with your people might be good too.”
“General. I came to LesMa totally unarmed except with one hand weapon. I would like to try some of your weapons. I will trade the techniques we use for free,” Cassandra was starting to anticipate what I wanted to say and told me the word, “hostages for the use of those weapons. May I work with Service Chief Latima and Battle Chief Lomsolo?” Robert said as Cassandra informed him she had located Skip’s position. She also said the equipment for Latima and Lomsolo were ready.
General Lallaman told the men to take him to the armory and find suitable weapons. They piled into a small, sturdy vehicle and drove quickly across the base to a squat building made of concrete. It was low and grey with thick walls and heavy steel doors. They had to go through two checkpoints until they came to a small room with a wiry old man standing with his arms crossed. They looked it each other for a few minutes across a padded counter. Chief Lomsolo finally spoke first. “We need weapons for this man to use.”
Robert did not say anything but waited for the armorer to speak. You don’t tell an armorer what you want until they acknowledge you – no matter what planet you are on.
“What do you need?” the old man said.
“I need weapons for a hostage rescue. We will be in buildings with civilians near us so I need,” he had to ask Cassandra for the words, “Semi-automatic weapons. They should be short but more powerful than handguns. I also need,” again he had to ask Cassandra for the words and this one they had to describe since even she didn’t know the word… “a small device that explodes without sending metal out. The firearm needs to fire twenty times or more.” Robert said because he didn’t remember the word for ‘rounds’. “I am also right-handed.”
The old man looked at Robert’s hands really for the first time and his eyes nearly popped out of his head but he said nothing.
Robert reached to his flight boot and pulled out his old Glock. He carefully removed the magazine and then pointing away from everyone – pulled the slide back and dumped the shell from the chamber onto the counter. The old man took the round from Robert and looked at the jacketed hollow point. He looked at the shell and Robert mimicked hitting the primer with his finger to show how the shell was activated. Now the old man perked up and leaned forward. Robert showed the armorer how it functioned. He quickly disassembled the Glock and showed the man how the trigger stop and two internal safeties worked. He spent a good twenty minutes demonstrating. The armorer was intrigued by the primer system and the way the barrel tilted downward to the bullet would feed up the ramp easier. The LesMa shells used a piezoelectric system to fire the propellant. LesMa firearms seemed reliable during the shootout the other day but this system was intriguing.
He finally gave the armorer his Glock and had him disassemble it twice. The old guy caught on really fast and did it perfectly the third time. Robert showed him the grip and had him aim it. The old guy loved the glowing sights and reluctantly handed it back. Robert paused, then presented the forty-caliber weapon to the armorer. The armorer tried to give it back but Robert touched his own chest, then touched the chest of the armorer, and pushed the weapon to him. Robert knew the he only had a few rounds left and the armorer would appreciate it more than anyone else on the planet. He still had a few LesMa firearms he had taken off the ‘would be’ assassins. The old guy got a little misty eyed and disappeared behind a door off to the side of the counter.
The armorer came out a few moments later with an open cart filled with submachine guns, handguns, ammo, and grenades. He started laying the guns out on the counter. Robert waited ‘til he was invited before he would reach forward. The armorer looked over the selection and picked out a gun that looked a lot like a fat German Schmeisser MP40. It was a larger caliber than its 9mm counterpart and had that strange piezoelectric ignition system. The armorer showed Robert how it operated. It handled well and had decent sights even though the Zhast thing was made for a leftie. There was a twenty-five(ish) meter range to test fire weapons.
The weapon was a bit awkward left-handed but I had done my share of weak handed drills. The gun, nicknamed a Teaser for some undefined reason, kicked more than I expected. It didn’t have a muzzle brake so it tended to climb in rapid semi-fire. It only took a magazine before I zeroed it in. Reloading started going smoother after three mags and I wanted to try the handguns. The handgun I chose was almost a forty-five caliber but a bit bulkier. The recoil was just like autos I had used on Earth but the slide – yes – it had a slide… was low toward the grip. Tried the concussion grenade and it was a single blast grenade with a three second delay – a bit long but doable. I explained I had used ones with a shorter delay and always used a double blast with flash. Anyone seeing the grenade would cover his ears for the first blast and the second blast, a second later, would leave then blind and deafened.
We spent the afternoon shooting – burning up ammo. Latima and Lomsolo were decent shots but it took a while before they would trust me when doing room entries. It was only when I threatened them with martial arts training that they started doing what I said. By early evening we were exhausted but working as a team – best I could hope for I guess. I made them clean and lubricate their weapons before we went to eat – they grumbled but I threatened them. I knew they would have done the same with any of their trainees. The late meal was underwhelming, as the cooks didn’t want to serve us after already cleaning up for the night. They weren’t going to serve us until I sidekicked a support post and actually bent it quite a bit. I had Cassandra print us out several maps of the area – she had copied field maps from their headquarters taken as I had toured. My Dex had a great depth of field and resolution. We three went to some quarters they had set up for us and I told the guys to get some rest. We had to get them their new equipment in the morning.
We were up early and had a great breakfast. I love their toilets. I guess all of LesMa used the things because they had heated seats in the military barracks – Zhast. The two men were about apprehensive – that wasn’t the right word – tense about ‘new’ equipment. We drove to the ship and Cassandra had printed a bunch of stuff for us. First items I got were the two sets of body armor for my support. They didn’t want them but I insisted. They were surprised when they tried them on – they were tailor fitted by Cassandra. These were liquid carbon-nanotube vests that stiffened at an impact and distributed the impact of kinetic weaponry. I suggested they punch each other and they got into it but were surprised that they could not hurt each other no matter how hard they hit. Next came the electronics.
Cassandra had printed three sets of eye bands with jaw transducers. Latima recoiled when I put the eye band on him and fitted the transducer against his jaw. He saw I was wearing mine and jerked back when I told him to ‘stay still’. He had heard it over his headset/eye band. LesMa hearing worked remarkably like human hearing except in a slightly wider hearing range. Lattimo started talking and we both raised our left index finger. Cassandra sent a drone high over the target house and I asked her to display the feed on our eye bands while pointing to the place on the map where Skip was supposed to be – from his communicator. Cassandra switched me to private and I contacted Skip – quietly.
“Skip…Skip…wake up man. It’s Robert. Your communicator was knocked a bit out of tune. Located you and will be along later today. Be ready. Have a drone over the housing where your signal is located.” Robert turned and switched to talking to his two soldiers. He told them what he was doing and even though they were incredulous – they gave him an ‘index finger up’.
The drone switched to infrared and transmitted video of a run down area on the outskirts of Thraman City. Cassandra asked Skip to walk in a small circle if he could and we saw one of the images doing that. We told him to call us if it got dicey. I told my two guys we were going to do some walkthroughs now but they didn’t quite understand yet.
Cassandra overlaid the information from the drone and projected it onto our goggles. We lined up and did a ‘squeeze up’ – squeezing the fellows bicep in front of you to show you are ready. I was supposed to kick the ‘virtual’ – projected door and they would go past me into the room. We were supposed to shoot ‘any’ simulated bad guy who raised a weapon at us. The military guys would stop when they saw anyone and we had to repeat it twenty times before they got smooth at it. Cassandra would vary the scenario to match data from the drone but pretty soon we were getting as far as Skip every time. We’d catch shots on the way out a lot but we got better. Latima reported back to his boss over a private channel that Cassandra opened with the communications gear. Latima asked if they could keep the equipment after this operation. I told them all they had to do was keep me alive and it would be their property. We were ready.
The two Chiefs briefed their superiors who insisted that they would be near the area because they could not afford me being killed or wounded. I explained and had Cassandra tell them herself that she would deflect the asteroid IF they allowed us to complete our mission. I had asked my two guys to obtain a non-governmental vehicle to get into the area as any low-income area could spot a non-local vehicle in a heartbeat. Lomsolo got one from a cleaning crew chief by promising to fill up the fuel tank. Cassandra would lead us in and give us turn-by-turn directions. Latima noted the closest hospital and I had the last two trauma packs. We headed out.
We had little trouble approaching the location and the little drone overhead gave us constant updates. I could see where everyone was but as we were pulling in – there was a commotion inside and they people clustered around ‘Skip’ for a moment and then started running out the back. Latima called his superior who, evidently, had had his own teams close by and surrounding the area. We pulled past the building and rolled out like we had practiced. We stacked beside the front door, squeezed up, and entered through the slightly opened front door.
Each room was as we practiced but they were empty. There were still drinks and half-eaten food on the table. We got into the area were Skip had been kept and found him lying on the bed gasping for breath. He was holding his belly.
“Hi boss. They got a phone call two minutes before you got here. One of them came in, shot me in the friggin’ belly, and ran out the back. Hurts boss. Take me home. It was LeChak. LeSlur didn’t want to do it. I had a fellow teaching me the language and these guys didn’t think I spoke a word of LesMan. Shit…hurts to talk,” Skip said.
My two guys came back in after clearing the house.
“The general put a cordon around this whole area. All four of the men were caught. We did not know,” Latima said. “Let’s take him to the hospital. He needs blood.”
I had placed one of my last trauma packs over the wound, sealed it, and injected one of the opiates I had in the emergency medical kit from the ship.
“I want some water,” Skip said and I knew not to give him water. I gave him a damp handkerchief to moisten his mouth.
“Help me carry him to the car,” I said.
Lassimo said, “An ambulance will be here by the time we get him outside.”
“Doctors here will be unable to stabilize him.” Cassandra said as we were carrying Skip outside. “They cannot give him their plasma or blood. They cannot do the surgery needed to stop the bleeding even though it appears the shot did not cut his aorta. He has pain, slight swelling, and a weak pulse…indicative of internal bleeding.”
We rushed out the door in time to see the ambulance slide to a stop. Two orderlies rushed out and threw open the rear doors and pulled out a gurney. We strapped Skip down on it and they loaded him in. I had to forcibly stop them from giving him plasma. The locker the plasma was in had other bags of liquid in it. Cassandra said there were bags of saline there and let me know which ones were which. I allowed them to give him saline. I moved into the seat near the front of the ambulance. Latima jumped in with me. It was a tight fit.
“Take us back to my ship. Your hospital cannot do anything for him,” I ordered and the ambulance techs started to argue but Latima shut them up. Lomsolo came on and asked what was happening and Latima filled him in. “I can do more for him in my ship than at the hospital,” I said not knowing if that was true.
“How long has he got Cassandra?” I asked in English.
“Are you praying?” Latima asked. “I didn’t think you were religious.”
“I am talking with my ship,” I responded. “No man is an…” Cassandra anticipated the word I was looking for… “No man is an atheist during battle.”
“That is true. Will your friend live? What does your ship say?” Latima asked in an unusually inquisitive manner for him.
“I don’t know. I am asking,” I said but Cassandra had been monitoring the conversation through our comm gear.
“Probably six hours minimum and 12 hours max. Shock will kill him if nothing else does. Keep him warm – let him lie in the most comfortable position for him. Do not elevate his feet since his wound is above the waist,” she said. “Are you thinking of trying to get back to Earth?” Cassandra said on my private communicator.
“Uh Huh,” I intoned.
“Then you have a difficult decision to make. It will take several hours to get to the position of asteroid and push it out of position. We can try to take him back to Earth but I predict his likelihood of survival is zero if we try to redirect the asteroid first. I have serious doubts we can return to Earth in time to get him to a hospital, refuel and return here in time to deflect that asteroid. You have a choice to make,” Cassandra said.
Skip just happened to have a lucid moment at that time. “What’s up buddy? Something’s bothering you. I don’t feel as much pain right now. I think I can drink a little water. How about giving me some water?”
I shook my head and damped the cloth. I patted his lips. Latima wet another cloth and I put it across Skip’s forehead.
“Where are we going? We’re going back to the ship aren’t we? We can go home can’t we? We can get there in two hours after we get out of the gravity well of this planet,” Skip said and coughed up a little blood. “I can hold on a while boss.”
I re-wet the cloth on his forehead and nodded. We rode that way in silence for another five minutes. We were admitted onto the base without a hitch and we headed toward Cassandra. Lomsolo checked in to see how Skip was doing. He was following in the borrowed car.
We pulled up beside Cassandra and the ambulance techs rushed around and threw open the rear doors. They eased Skip out on the gurney but Latima reached forward and grabbed my arm.
“I have orders to stop you if you try to leave to go back to your planet,” he said when Skip was out. “My family lives in Thraman City.”
“I understand. Do you have pain medicine strong enough to kill a man? I need it now. Something where he would feel good and lose being awake?” I asked not knowing the word for consciousness.
“We would use a heavy dose of Twasolo but I understand it does not work on you the same way as for us…I will get something,” he said. He then ordered Lomsolo to get something even though Lomsolo was a battle chief and technically his superior. Lomsolo sped off.
I walked over to the gurney and talked to Skip while holding his arm. He was sweating and pale. He was sweating and he said, “Headache.”
“We are getting you something to knock you out. There’s no room to lay you down and you’ll need to be sitting up for the whole trip,” I said.
He looked straight at me. He focused on my eyes. “What’s up? What aren’t you telling me?”
I thought he ought to know. “Cassandra and I deflected and asteroid toward Thraman City. It’s going to be here in five more days but I can only deflect it if I do it in the next 72 hours,” I said with the tears starting to run down my face.
He gave me the sweetest little smile and squeezed my hand back. “It’s okay buddy. I’ve done more than my daddy ever thought I’d do. We’re gonna be famous. I’m just happy I didn’t die in that prison. You came back for me,” he said and coughed some more.
Lomsolo came driving back in that same car but had a female tech with him. They rushed to the side of the gurney and the female tech opened a little pack she had with her. She was quite the contrast to Lomsolo, skinny with long brown hair.
She prepared a syringe and looked at Lomsolo and then at me. We both nodded. She looked at Skip and said, “This will feel like a little pinch. You know you are quite handsome,” she said.
Skip looked at her face and saw she was crying too. “You are beautiful,” he said. “I would like to take you on a date,” he said in almost flawless LesMa and brushed the tear off her cheek. He turned to me as she injected his arm. “I’ve been practicing that line in case I ran into a pretty girl,” he said in English. His eyelids fluttered and he took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. He did not breathe again.
I saw the girl was very young. “Thank you. He didn’t die in pain,” I said. I turned to Lomsolo and Latima. “I know you have orders not to let me go back to Earth but we have negotiations to finish.”
Lomsolo said, “I understand that it only took you two hours to come from your solar system to here.”
“Yes…Very close to your time divisions. Why?” I asked.
“You could have taken your friend home. Your medical treatment could easily have saved him. Correct?” Lomsolo asked.
“I would not let millions die to save a friend – or myself for that matter,” I said.
“I will make arrangements to have your friend cremated,” Lomsolo replied.
“Cremated? Don’t you bury your dead here?” I asked.
“We usually do but I wanted to make sure his body was treated with respect and not…dissected,” Cassandra had to translate that last word for me. “He deserves that much.”
Latima asked the ambulance drivers to give the young lady a ride along with Battle Chief Lomsolo. Lomsolo tossed Latima the service peg for the borrowed car.”
****